Should've Done That Earlier
by Xx-Twitch-xX
Summary: Fang and Max have been going to school together since kindergarten. Seeing as they're now in tenth grade, you'd think that they would know each other. Think again. A very Faxy one-shot. T for a slightly suggestive first paragraph and mild language.


If you get discouraged while reading this, just keep reading. Imagine Dory from _Finding Nemo_ swimming onto your screen and singing her little 'Just keep swimming' song, only she says reading instead of swimming. I swear this is a happy story :) If you're confused about the POV it's in, 'you' is the same as 'Fang'.

I don't own Maximum Ride.

* * *

You like the way her name sounds. Maximum Ride. You bet she _is_ the maximum ride, but you'll never know because she doesn't even know that you exist, meaning she would _never in a million years_ do that with you. You watch her every day as she walks to her classes. She doesn't know that your lockers are next to each other, that you live right down the street from her, or that you've been in the same classes since kindergarten. Ten years and she probably doesn't know your name.

It depresses you.

You want to tell her hi in the hall one day, but that would go against everything you've taught yourself. You don't speak. You don't show emotion. You definitely _don't_ say hi to _the_ most feared girl in your high school. You'd probably get beaten up or something.

You have no friends, so everyone says you're 'emo' and whatnot. You sit by yourself at lunch, but you're not complaining, are you? Everyone seems to understand that you want to be by yourself, so they leave you alone. You even have your own table that is unofficially (yet somewhat officially) yours.

You're aware that every girl in school is after your 'heart' that you're not sure is yours anymore. You're pretty sure it belongs to Max. Only she doesn't know it.

You find it odd, living without your heart. The only thing you feel is that weird glowing when you look at her; it's like someone lit a fire in the hole where she ripped out your heart. She still doesn't know how much you want to talk to her.

Today, she's wearing your favorite outfit: black skinny jeans, black combat boots with red laces, and a red and black loose shirt with tears in it. You turn a corner and run straight into her, knocking all the books from her hands. Damn. She looks good today. She bends over to pick up her books and you can see _everything_ down her shirt, but you quickly bend over and help her get her things.

"Sorry," you mumble in your deep baritone and she looks up at you, seemingly surprised that you spoke.

"It's fine," she says, smiling at you uncharacteristically. You're taken aback; she almost never smiles, especially not at you. "Are you new here?"

You suck in a breath. That one hurt. Your head is filled with the image of her stomping on your heart and then shoving it back in your empty chest. "No."

Her smile drops and is replaced by an adorable confused expression. "Really? I don't remember seeing you around…"

You fight back those terrible words that are threatening to come from your mouth. You can't blame her for not knowing who you are. You don't exactly make yourself known. "I live down the street from your house." And you're kind-of-sort-of in love with her.

She still looks confused; you find it hurtful and endearing at the same time. "Oh… I don't know why I haven't noticed you before." Well, there's no denying it now. She definitely doesn't like (or love, for that matter) you back.

"I'll see you later," you say, picking up her last book, handing it to her and standing up, your knees popping as you do so. You really need to get to your next class.

She smiles brightly as you do so, momentarily stunning you. "Yeah, I'm Max!"

You nod. "I know."

"And what's your name?" She asks, giving you a mildly freaked out look. _That probably wasn't the right thing to say_, you think.

"I'm Fang."

* * *

You have one ear bud in as you walk home from school. You don't have a car, so you usually take the bus, but today is such a nice day… and you decided to walk.

You'll never _ever_ admit it, but you like the way the leaves rustle and whisper their secrets to you. You can barely hear them tell you of the coming storm, but the heavy metal blasting from your ear bud that's plugged into your iPod touch is almost drowning it out.

You hear an engine revving behind you, but you don't worry about it. No one's going to bug a strong-looking teenage boy wearing all black. You start to second-guess yourself when you hear the car engine stop right behind you, but you keep walking. Then you hear a shout of your name. You turn with a murderous look, only to see Max in her huge black pick-up truck. Your murderous look is replaced by one of mild amusement, but you know that _she_ can't tell you're silently laughing at the way she looks. She's so small, and the truck is so big and… You just find it funny, but you don't laugh.

She leans over the seat towards the rolled-down window that's facing you. "You said you lived on my street?"

Your lack of experience in conversations makes it hard for you to follow what she means, so you give her a confused look, shifting your backpack around on your shoulders. "Yeah."

She pauses awkwardly as she waits for you to do something; instead, you stand there, studying the tightness of her jeans around her legs. "You wanna ride?"

You shrug and open the passenger door to her car, clambering up and almost falling. She laughs at you, but the quick glare you shoot her is enough to make it silent in the car. "Thanks," you say, tugging your ear bud out of your ear, wrapping the cords around the iPod, and putting it in the front pocket of your backpack.

"It's not a problem," she says, stopping at a stop sign and turning to look at you quickly. You feel her eyes sweep up and down your body and you're suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I like your color scheme." She continues with her driving.

You smirk over at her, even though you know she can't see it. "Yours, too," you say, trying to get on her nerves with your lack of answers. She doesn't seem to be annoyed yet. Key word here: yet.

"Why don't you chill with my people? You seem like you're one of my people."

You want to ask why she owns people, but you think that would be disrespectful. "Don't like talking," you say, shrugging. Your backpack it squashing your feet, but you can't really feel anything. You've suddenly realized. You're sitting in _her_ car. She invited you into _her_ car. You're practically in heaven now.

"I can tell," she says, laughing as she turns onto your street. You like the way she doesn't hold back when she laughs, she just _laughs_. She doesn't giggle like those girls that follow you around at school and she doesn't chuckle as you have the terrible habit of doing. It's a breath of fresh air. She seems to be thinking now. "You're talking to _me_."

You give her a rare half-grin when she pulls into her driveway. "You're different."

She kind-of stares at you for a second, and then looks down, letting her hair cover her face as she unbuckles herself. "Well, you'll have to point out which house is yours. I'll drive you to school when we go back if you want."

You really have to fight back the grin this time. "The grey one," you point to your house and she smiles at you, nodding. Both of you get out of the car and you grab your things, starting to head over to your house when you remember. Your house keys are in the pocket of the jeans you wore yesterday. The ones you're definitely _not_ wearing today. "Dammit," you mumble to yourself and Max looks up at you. You can't help but notice the way her head snaps up to you with a smile. She's just _so_… cute, for lack of a more Fang-like word.

"What?" She asks, coming over and looking up at you. You never noticed how much taller you were than she until today.

"Forgot my keys." You start to head over to your house so you can sit on the back porch or maybe find an open window, but Max grabs your elbow. You're glad you're wearing long-sleeves today. Your skin would be on fire if her fingers had touched your bare arm.

"You can stay the afternoon with me," she says and you freeze. Why is she being so nice to you? You only helped her get her books in the hall after you knocked her over. "My parents don't get home till late, so it'll be all right."

"I gotta tell my mom." You take out your phone and dial your mom's phone number; she picks up on the first ring.

"Yes, Nick?" She's so loud that Max can hear every word she says and mouths 'Nick?' to you. You shake your head and hold up a finger, quieting her for a moment.

"Locked out. I'm staying at a friend's house for the afternoon. Call me when you get home?" You decide you don't want to talk anymore today. That's your quota for the day.

"All right, Nick! Love you!"

You roll your eyes and Max laughs quietly, leading you into her house and to the living room. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." You hang up and cram your phone back into your pocket.

Max motions to the floor in front of the couch. "You can throw your stuff there. It doesn't really matter." You put your things on the ground and wander around the living room, feeling like you're treading on sacred ground. You can tell Max is watching with that amused look on her face, but you don't care. "Hungry?" You jerk your head up to Max and narrow your eyes a small amount, asking what she meant silently. "Food? Hungry? Eat?"

Oh. You nod and follow her to the kitchen, where she opens the fridge and motions for you to join her. "What do you want? I'm not cooking anything for you, so don't even ask." You raise your eyebrows and she turns to you, laughing a little. "It's not 'cause I'm lazy or anything, you know." You keep your expression, questioning her, and she goes on. "I'm a really _bad_ cook, alright? I mean… I burnt water, and then the pan, and then the stove. It's a bad idea to make me cook." You shake your head. That's _probably_ an understatement.

Despite the lack of ability to make you food, you find it irresistible that she can't cook. That means you can cook for her, and that's always more romantic, right? You're not sure, but you think you read that somewhere.

You ask her the question with your eyes. _You want me to cook something?_ She seems to understand and shrugs.

"That's fine, Fang. I'm not all that hungry. You can get something to eat and then join me in the living room for homework time." You give her a look. "Yes, I know it's Friday." You give her another look. "Yes, I know we're on Spring Break now." You keep up the look and she sighs. "Fine then, we won't do homework."

You spend a few minutes getting yourself a Pop-Tart and going back with Max to the living room. You still feel like you shouldn't be here, but you're here, and Max isn't complaining, so you aren't either.

You sit together on the couch (not touching, but almost there) and Max turns to you right as you take a bite from your Pop-Tart. "Are you going to talk to me now?"

You lightly smirk, giving her your answer.

"How can I get you to talk?"

You decide to go against your 'word-quota-for-the-day' rule. "Why do you want me to talk?"

She shrugs, smiling a little and staring across the room from you. "I dunno."

You don't answer, favoring staring around the room. There's a fireplace across from you; there are pictures on the mantle and you want to go look at them, but you think that would be intruding. There's evidence of a dog, but you're pretty sure it's outside; you can hear barking coming from her backyard, confirming your suspicions. The chairs around the room look awkward and not very lived in, as if someone just threw them there. The coffee table in front of you is cluttered with newspapers from the past few months and various mangas, consisting of _Black Cat_ and _Vampire Knight._

Next to you, Max is sitting with her legs pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. Her blond-brown hair is tucked behind her ear and she's staring across the room blankly. "Fang?" She asks without looking at you. You like the way she says your name, so you almost don't answer so you can hear her say it again.

"Yeah?"

"How long have you known who I am?" She sounds curious and you don't look at her, even though you can feel her brown eyes examining you.

"A while." You don't want to sound like a total stalker and tell her that you've known her since kindergarten or that you've liked her since seventh grade.

"How long is a while?" The hard edge is starting to creep back into her voice, trying to intimidate you into telling her. Too bad that probably won't work. You don't answer her and she sighs; you can still tell that she's staring at you. "Why haven't I ever noticed you?"

You shrug, turning to look at her quickly and then staring back across the room. "I'm not very noticeable." She mumbles something that you can't understand, so you ask her about it.

"I said it seems like the girls would notice you," she says and you try to disguise the way your head snaps over to her. She's blushing and smiling a little, but not looking at you.

Your mouth is hanging open a small amount and you're staring at her in confusion. _Very un-Fang-like,_ your sub-conscience scolds you, but you ignore it. "Why would girls notice me?"

She scoffs and looks over to you, motioning to your body. "Why wouldn't we? We girls go for the attractive ones."

You feel an odd heat sneaking up your neck and onto your face; is this what blushing feels like? You continue to stare at her, liking the way her face is bright red and how she's avoiding your eyes.

It hits you a minute later. She just called you attractive. She thinks you're attractive. You chuckle to yourself, happy with the thought. "Glad you think that," you say coolly, disguising your embarrassment.

"Really, though, Fang. Do girls follow you around at school?" You like the way she skillfully changes the subject; you still want to talk about how she thinks you're good-looking, but this is interesting, too.

You concentrate, trying to think about school and whether or not girls follow you. You can remember red hair, but your thoughts are usually on Max. "I _think_ they do."

"Who?" She asks, turning sideways so she's facing you and sitting cross-legged on the couch. Her knees are touching your legs now and you're surprised; she never struck you as the type to make physical contact so easily.

You copy her position so your knees are pressed against each other. "Red hair."

Max makes a face that you think isn't very becoming on her, but you don't say it. "I know her. Lissa." You nod, seeming to remember that name. "I don't like her."

It pops out before you can stop it. "Who _do_ you like, then?" You want to hit yourself over the head a million times and then crawl into a cave and die. You're so extremely _stupid_.

Max looks at you with a smirk and you look down, grateful that blushes don't appear on your olive-tone skin. "What do you mean?"

"Forget it." You avoid her eyes because you know she's going to laugh at you.

"Alright, then. Why'd your mom call you Nick?"

You groan; you don't find it surprising that you hate the way your real name sounds coming from her mouth. "It's my name."

"I thought your name was Fang."

"Nickname." You wish she would just say your name over and over again. You love the way it sounds from her mouth.

She nods. "Back to the subject of liking people… Who do _you_ like?"

You stare straight at her, not breaking the eye contact you have with her. If you tell her, you're _so_ screwed. You bet she kicks you out of her house and never give you a second glance. On the other hand, you can't lie to her. If you lie to her, you'll feel terrible. You stay silent, it's the only thing you can do at this point. You fear if you open your mouth, you'll spill everything to her. She raises her eyebrows. "Well?" You're struck with the want to kiss her for the first time. It's only a few feet; all you have to do is lean forward and… You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts. "Do you want me to tell you who I like first?" She asks now.

You shake your head. "We should talk about something else." You _really_ don't wanna risk it. You need to leave; being here is dangerous for Max and yourself. You're both lucky that you have first-class self-control.

"How long have you lived down the street from me?" She's playing with her hair now, running her fingers through it. It's almost like she's tempting you; running your hands through her hair sounds _very_ inviting at the time.

"I've lived there my whole life." You're almost positive that Max has lived here as long as you.

"I've lived _here_ my whole life." You can almost see the gears in her head turning; she looks up to you with a horrified look. "I feel so terrible."

You cock your head. You're reminded of the fact that Max owns your heart, even though she doesn't know it. She feels bad. You _have_ to know why. "Hm?" You carefully disguise your worry for her well-being under your forever-impassive face.

"You've lived down there for my entire time on this earth, and I've never so much as said hi to you." You smirk at her, expertly hiding your surprise that she feels bad for ignoring you. You quickly correct your thought process. She wasn't ignoring you; that implies that she knew you existed. She was more like… ignorant of your presence.

"I don't make myself known."

She smiles at you, tucking her hair behind her ears. "You should; you're pretty cool." She thinks you're cool. You _are_ in heaven now. She noticed you, she let you ride in her car, she let you into her house, she said you were attractive, she said you were cool. Your life is almost complete now. All you need to do is kiss her… but not now.

"I noticed you in kindergarten," you say randomly and you fall into an awkward silence; the only sounds are Max's light breaths, you're holding yours.

She grins at you. "That's sweet, Fang." You let out your breath. You can feel the hole where your heart once was begin to heal up slowly; Max is replacing your lack of heart with little pieces of her own. She leans forward and you suck in a breath again, watching her hand as it brushes your bangs away from your eyes. Your skin burns where her fingers touch your forehead and you wonder if she can feel it too. "Your eyes are pretty…" She mumbles and you feel your face heat up. "You should keep your hair out of your eyes more often." You think it's funny how she pronounces the 't' in 'often'. Her hands move to your chest and she starts picking hairs off and sending your stomach around a roller coaster. "Do you have a cat at your house?"

You struggle to speak from the contact her hand is making with your chest. "Yeah," you manage to gasp out, you're starting to hyperventilate.

Max rests her palm on your chest, giving you a confused look. "Are you all right?" You feel like her hand is burning a hole through your chest. You manage to get your breathing under control, but you think if you start to talk, you'll pass out. That would be bad, to say the least.

You nod and she takes her hand off your chest and eyes you carefully. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, but disguise it as a yawn. Again, she starts to pick the cat hair from your shirt when she thinks you're okay (she couldn't be more wrong), but this time she runs her fingers down your chest, making the cat hair roll up. You shiver under her touch, enjoying the feeling immensely. "You work out?" She asks, seeming to feel the muscles under your shirt.

"A bit," you say, carefully keeping your voice in check.

What she says next makes you almost jump with joy. "I like a guy with muscles." She takes her hand off your chest and looks down, blushing.

"And I like a girl named Max," you say and she looks up, surprise written all over her face. You make a split decision and kiss her, pulling back quickly. You don't look at her until she touches your arm.

She's smiling at you widely. "You're sweet, Fang." She kisses your cheek lightly.

All this because you accidentally ran into her in the hall. You really should've done that earlier.

* * *

:D Cute, no?

REVIEW :)


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